Holmes Academy
by Lawliet Holmes
Summary: Voldemort has been defeated, as has every fantasy villain ever created, through the combined efforts of the unstoppable duo of Sherlock Holmes and... Jim Moriarty? With all villains gone, what will they possibly do to keep their brilliant minds from getting bored. The answer? Start a school. Rated M for sex, swearing and weirdness. Enjoy


Chapter 1 – In Which the Diaries Are Started, Artemis Has A Hairy Arse and Sherlock and Jim Have Some Alone Time

(Author's Note: My dear reader, let the fun begin. Here is the first chapter of this fabulous new fanfiction, and we have a guest appearance from Captain Jack Sparrow (sort of). WARNINGS for very crude sex references in the Jimlock bit and Moriarty being a sexual deviant.)

* * *

_The Diary of Artemis Fowl the Second_

_Dear Diary…_

_Okay, there is no way on Earth that somebody of my intellectual calibre is going to spend the next year writing Dear Diary on a weekly basis. Despite Professor Moriarty's assurances that it will 'help us find ourselves', this is not my diary. This is my… journal. Yes, far more fitting for somebody of my IQ._

_Anyway, the whole Journals thing is Professor Moriarty's idea. Every student at the Academy has been given one, and been told to write down their feelings and emotions on a weekly basis, more if we wish to. I, of course, do not bother with emotions, so I shall simply write down what happens to me that is interesting. The only reason I'm even considering writing anything at all is because if I don't, the Professor has promised to freeze the Fowl accounts and donate it all to Amnesty International. This is, understandably, something that I cannot allow, and if the price is that I have to degrade myself by writing in this Journal, then it is one I will pay._

_I am going to start off by telling you about myself, seeing as nothing remotely interesting happened today except for the Professor giving us this intellectually demeaning Journal project and us getting a new teacher._

_My name is Artemis Fowl the Second, and I am fifteen years old. I am of Irish nationality, and my father is Artemis Fowl the First, criminal mastermind-turned-business tycoon. I possess one of the highest IQs on the planet, used to own a criminal empire as large as my father's, and now attend the Holmes Academy for Gifted Students thanks to my dumbass mother signing a contract that keeps me here till I'm eighteen. Brilliant._

_As schools go, it's actually rather good; all of the teachers, with the possible exception of Professor Snape, my Chemistry teacher, are genuinely intelligent, and the students are smart enough to provide me with some intellectual stimulation, as opposed to the ignorant f*ckwits at St Bartelby's. The Headmaster is a rather famous Detective called Sherlock Holmes, and one I respect hugely for his intellect. The deputy head, Professor Moriarty, is somebody I respect even more, because he possesses the greatest criminal mind in history, which, coming from me, is incredibly high praise. They're both getting on a bit now, and it seems that the purpose of the Academy is to train people up to replace them. Somehow I think I shall be replacing Moriarty and not Mr Holmes._

_There are four houses at HAGS; Bach, Chopin, Beethoven and Paganini. I am the Fourth Year Head Boy in Bach House, which is actually a decent group of people. Indeed L, the infamous detective who seems to have replaced Mr Holmes, was in Bach. My Fourth Year Head Girl, who takes delight in overruling my decisions and generally being a pain in the arse, is the ever annoying Hermione Granger, and her 'Deputy' of sorts is Minerva, the insanely intelligent female I encountered during my last escapade with the LEP. We dated for a while, before she dumped me for an incredibly annoying, white haired computer freak in Paganini (Paggles) house called Otto Malpense. So. F*cking. Annoying._

_For those who know me, you will probably have guessed that I don't have many friends here. You would be right, in that I generally don't make friends. But at HAGS, where the majority of people are of a similar intelligence level to me, I have made a few 'friends'. One of these isn't my friend by choice, but by necessity; the ginger, leather-clad, pole-dancing chocolate addict known as Mello. Indeed, when I was first escorted to my room, I took one look at him and demanded to be taken to the male dormitories. One look at the bulge between his legs told me that I was wrong and he was, in fact, male. He was also gay, although he claims not to be._

_Throughout the year, I have grown accustomed to him; his hormonal man-periods, his chocolate addiction, his raging temper tantrums and, above all, his utter hatred for the Chopin House First Year Head Boy; Near._

_But I'll talk more about that at a later date; time to tell you about the one interesting thing that happened today._

_We had a new teacher._

_Professor Sparrow has replaced Professor Binns as the History teacher, and he's quite a character. A tall man, with long, messy hair and a braided beard, he stumbled into the classroom fifteen minutes late wearing a strange, three-pointed hat, introduced himself as 'Captain Jack Sparrow' and asked us if we had any rum. I instantly dismissed him as an idiot, but when he started teaching it was clear he knew his stuff. We were discussing the Jack the Ripper murders, and how we would have gone about catching him if we lived back then. His teaching method consisted of part narration, part acting, as he lurked about the front of the classroom holding a huge knife, illustrating on Hermione Granger exactly where the wounds were, and how Jack would have made them. She was white as a sheet afterwards._

_Anyway, my hand is starting to ache now, and Mello is complaining about the temperature of the shower._

_Uh, I think I'm supposed to sign this, so…_

_Artemis Fowl II_

* * *

_3rd Person – Artemis POV_

"Artemis! Have you been in the shower?"

Artemis rolled his eyes, closing his diary and locking it in the self-fabricated safe under his bed before taking his shirt off.

"No. I haven't had a chance, not with you running in and out like a Tudor Monarch with Dysentery."

"Because the water's f*cking freezing!"

Artemis opened his drawer and scrabbled about for his pyjama top, throwing several of Mello's socks out onto the floor.

"If you stopped and thought about it, you'd realised that the water is connected to the upstairs dorms, so any temperature abnormalities are probably due to the girls. Go out and shout at them… or better yet, stay up there. You'd fit right in."

While not normally one to make insults like that, Artemis had changed somewhat after a year sharing with the male equivalent of a drunk Edith Piaf, and any insult, no matter how crude or immature, was par for the course.

The bathroom door opened, and Mello stomped out wrapped in a pink towel.

"Artemis, you know I can't shower in cold water!"

Artemis sighed heavily, and pulled on his pyjama top.

"Well what do you expect me to do about it?"

Mello glared, practically snarling.

"Just turn the motherf*cking water on, you f*cking f*ckwit!"

Artemis reached into his drawer and pulled out a bar of Yorkie chocolate, ignoring the slogan printed on the packaging, and tossed it to Mello.

"Eat it and calm down. You'll just have to wait for your shower."

Mello quickly unwrapped the chocolate and licked all the way up the bar before tenderly nibbling at the end, face transforming as an expression of pleasure and release flooded across it. Artemis, by now, had mastered the art of not laughing when Mello ate chocolate. It was, quite literally, like Heroin was to Junkies; he even got withdrawal symptoms.

Mello's obsession with chocolate had resulted in all the chocolate in HAGS being locked away, but for the sake of his sanity, Artemis had managed to acquire some for the sole purpose of placating Mello.

"Thanks Arty."

And that was another thing about Mello that annoyed Artemis; the boy only ever called him Artemis when he was angry (which was, to be fair, about forty-five percent of the time). All other times saw Artemis called by his mother's pet name for him, which drove him up the wall. And he couldn't even have Butler tell him not to do it, because Butler wasn't allowed in the Academy, and as such was currently taking part in an international weightlifting championship.

Leaving Artemis sharing a room with Mello without his trusty gun-toting man-mountain to cover his back.

'Cover his back?'

Great, Artemis was starting to use military terminology. How low man hath fallen.

Mello sat down on his bed, savouring the sweet taste of the chocolate.

"So Arty, what do you think of the new teacher?"

Artemis looked at Mello and laughed slightly.

"He's completely mad, but everybody at HAGS is a little bit out of their mind. It was interesting, and the look on Hermione's face was priceless."

Mello nodded.

"All the girls are going on about how hot he is."

Artemis snorted.

"Maybe I should grow a beard, then. Or you can buy me a pirate hat for my birthday; I think they'd look good on me."

Mello shook his head.

"Your head isn't the right shape, Arty. Although those lovely, tight trousers he was wearing…"

Artemis rolled his eyes.

"Stop right there, Mello, or I'll tell Draco Malfoy what his shirtless pictures were doing in your bedside drawer."

Mellow spluttered.

"I told you, they were there for blackmail purposes!"

Artemis laughed.

Draco Malfoy was the Paganini Fourth Year Head Boy, and was one of his least favourite people at HAGS. He wasn't particularly intelligent, was completely obnoxious, and Artemis strongly suspected that the only reason he got into HAGS was because his father performed a private lap dance for Professor Moriarty. He strutted around the place, flanked by his deputy, Matt, and his pet henchman, martial arts expert Wing Fanchu, bullying the younger students and generally being a prat. Apparently at his last school, the same Wizarding school that Hermione had gone to, he had used his riches to get his way, but as everybody in the school was moreorless loaded, he used his magical power to that effect. How that worked when magic was disabled within HAGS was beyond Artemis, but it seemed to keep the younger kids in check.

Artemis thoroughly disliked him, but as he wasn't at all intelligent, he left him alone, unlike that albino moron Otto Malpense.

Mello, on the other hand, didn't dislike him at all. Purely because Draco Malfoy was one of the best looking boys at HAGS. Tall and muscular, with brilliant blond hair, so light it was almost white, and a dress sense almost as skin-tight as Mello's, he was considered 'the' catch of HAGS. If the rumours were to believe, he constantly flaunted the 'no sex' rule at HAGS with both boys and girls, which added to his… desirability.

Artemis, who was firmly convinced of his own straightness, had no time for him, but as it has already been said, Mello adored him, going so far as to hide shirtless pictures of him in his drawer.

Artemis rolled his eyes.

"Blackmail or not, I'm sure he wouldn't like hearing about it. He already dislikes you, after all."

Mello sighed.

"Whatever, Arty; f*ck off.

Artemis chuckled and turned his back on Mello, taking off his trousers and folding them up, before grabbing his pyjama trousers and removing his boxers. Mello laughed.

"Hey Arty, you know something?"

Artemis turned his head to Mello, being careful to keep the rest of his body facing the other way (he'd already fallen for that trick once and Mello hadn't shut up about it for weeks. Apparently having a member with a sideways lean was looked down on).

"What?" he asked, and Mello almost cackled.

"You have a seriously hairy arse."

Artemis groaned aloud, and quickly pulled on his trousers.

"Mello! Stop going on about it!"

Mello laughed again.

"Then sort it out, cause I can't look at your arseanymore without thinking of the Golliwog."

Artemis huffed; this subject was a sore one for him.

"Well what am I supposed to do about it? It's not as if I can get it cut, is it?"

"I could do it."

Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, sure, I'll just bend over and let you probe my anus with a pair of scissors. Not bloody likely."

Artemis sat down heavily on his bed and pulled the quilt over him, propping up his pillows and taking his book, 'The Science of Deduction' by Professor S. Holmes, from the bedside table and opening it at the page he'd dog-eared.

Mello started stripping, humming the Striptease theme, and pulled on his pyjamas while dancing suggestively in front of Artemis. Artemis, being a sensible boy, kept his eyes firmly on his book.

Mello sighed heavily and got into bed, picking up his book, 'Aunt Carolyn's Chocolate Recipes' from the desk, opening it up.

The two boys read in silence for a while, until…

"Artemis?"

The pale, raven haired boy sighed.

"Is it important?"

"Yes."

"Then what is it?"

Mello held out the book.

"Have you tried Chilli and Chocolate?"

Artemis groaned, slamming his book shut and lying down, the pillow over his face.

"F*ck off, Mello; I'm going to bed."

Mello muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'somebody's in a Fowl mood', and Artemis, having heard said joke over a hundred times, fell asleep.

* * *

_1st Person – Sherlock POV_

The cleaners had forgotten to put the silk sheets on my bed instead of the cotton ones, which meant that I had to move into Jim's room for the night. The smile on his face, slight quickening of his breathing and the growing bulge between his legs indicated that he wasn't the least bit displeased with this arrangement, and while Jim can be tiresome at times, I wasn't too bothered about this. After writing a little more on the subject of the use of talcum powder as a way of catching students in the act of having sex, and deducing that young Artemis Fowl needed a lesson in shaving the more hard-to-reach areas of the male anatomy, I decided to retire to bed. Of course, while I merely wanted to sleep (running a school takes effort), my lovely husband had other ideas involving baby oil, strawberries and his rather ample Kalbalsa Sausage. While I work off mental boredom with a combination of teaching, deductions, freelance detective work and nicotine patches, Jim seems to spend his bored time devising rather odd sexual fantasies that are varied and sometimes even dangerous in their scope. However, my dear beloved had struck gold with this particular one, so it was with a sore arse but a contented ego and sex drive that I finally put my head to the pillow, with Jim's arms around me, arms trailing over my chest and his floppy soldier against the crack of my arse.

"Well, Sherlock, you're loosing your touch, dear. It took me exactly six minutes to reach climax, which is double the last time. My stamina definitely hasn't increased, so you're not doing something that you were before."

I sighed; he was always complaining nowadays.

"Your stamina has increased exactly six percent, you have been spending your free time masturbating over internet fetish sites and have started taking Viagra; your extended acceleration time is nothing to do with me. I suggest stopping with the Viagra, wanking less, and you will find that you get back up to speed in no time."

Jim sighed.

"But Sherlock", he whined in that high-pitched, gay voice he did so often,

"You never have time to play anymore. I might have to start killing people again."

I turned to face him, trying to keep a stern face (harder than it loo

"No, we both agreed that if you did that, I would simply refuse to pleasure you whatsoever. And you don't want that, do you?"

Jim shrugged.

"There's plenty of hot guys in the classrooms…"

I rolled my eyes; this was another thing we'd been over before.

"And have the NSPCC breathing down are necks? Be rational, Jim; molesting the children is hardly a logical way of preparing them for later life."

Jim kissed between my shoulder blades, and I couldn't help but shudder a little bit; turns out, that bit between my shoulder blades on my back is one of my major pleasure points.

"Alright Sherlock, but we need to f*ck more often, okay? Otherwise I'll have to start asking the other teachers… that Mr Sparrow looks fine."

I playfully slapped him.

"Behave yourself, Jim… How did the kids take the Diary project?"

Jim laughed, turning over, letting go of me and looking up at the giant phallus he had graffitied on the ceiling in a fit of drug-fuelled boredom.

"They're just as bad as I thought. Near doesn't even know where to start; I'm beginning to think he has no emotions. Mello's predictably consists of the words 'I Hate Near' written without spaces or punctuation, and he's covered five pages of the book already. Miss Granger's always been a goody-twoshoes, and has naturally written down every single emotion she'd felt today, which… well, it's a lot. Mr Malfoy seems to have taken to doodling picture of apples, penises and writing phrases like 'I Am A God Of Sex' in the margins without actually writing anything he's supposed to, Otto Malpense wrote his in binary code… the list goes on. It's so boring, really."

I shrugged; sometimes he made me wonder why he even chose to teach here.

"It was your idea, Jim."

He sighed.

"I know, but these kids are so…"

I sighed and clicked my fingers, the light turning off.

"Night Jim, dear". I said, and he kissed me once on the lips before turning over and spooning me.

"Night Sherlock…"


End file.
